


As The Stars Align

by orphan_account



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 07:02:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4909831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Dan doesn't believe in astrology. It’s “future-telling, happy-go-lucky” sort of vibe isn't one that he’s ever wanted to believe in. But it only takes one silly ‘Gemini; 21st May-21st June’  horoscope to turn his world upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As The Stars Align

1.  
Rain had always comforted Dan, making him feel most ‘at home’ with himself. It was the thing that put him to sleep on the colourless, dreary nights, and the nights where Phil wasn’t by his side. He leans up against the window of the cab, feeling the vibration of the engine against his temples, listening to the pitter patter of the rain outside. His now-flavourless gum is stuck against the roof of his mouth, occupying his tired mind. Moments later, after almost slipping into an uncomfortable sleep, Phil nudged his side, jolting him awake. 

“We’re here.” Phil whispers, putting his hand on the taller boy’s knee. He knew that Dan wasn’t very enthusiastic about coming tonight, but he wanted to try and make it a good birthday for him, and Phil’s actions are understandable. Dan has been a little distant the past few weeks.

“I’ve noticed.” Dan frowned, turning his head away from Phil, not wanting to show his displeasure of the idea. Phil doesn’t reply, knowing that Dan was just a bit conflicted on the idea of becoming an ‘old man’.

‘Thirty isn’t old, it's just mature.’ Phil reminds him, giggling at Dan’s silly grumbles. Sure, Dan had fun sometimes, but his stressful job causes him to age even quicker than he really wants to, or at least wants to admit. Phil pays the cab driver, thanking him for their ride like a true gentleman, prior to sprinting up the stairs of the bar, nearly tripping over his feet. Acting like giant five year old, in a thirty-five year old’s body. Sometimes the contrast of Phil’s personality confused him, but after knowing him for 12 years, Dan understands why he holds onto his childlike nature.

Dan curses the horrid weather, running up the steps to avoid the rain and into the crowded bar. The smell of strong liquor and too-much-cheap-cologne hits him, as he looks around for the raven-haired man. Dan spins around, taking in the atmosphere of the eccentric, dimly lit bar, watching everyone from afar. Phil is already nowhere to be seen, and has run off to find the ‘mystery guests’ that he’s invited. Dan takes a seat at the bar, ordering some fancy ‘look at me, I’m a successful lawyer’ type of drink and slumping into one of the comfortable bar stools. 

There’s a couple just opposite of Dan, sitting on the rusted, aged bar stools, both giggling into each other, hiccuping and gasping, basking in the pure glory of being in love with each other. Dan smiles, remembering a time of when him and Phil were that carefree. 

“There you are!” He hears a yell from behind him, only to find a giggling Phil, standing next to a couple of their friends, (A.K.A; the ‘mystery guests’ that Phil has invited). Dan stands, proceeding to hug everyone, asking them how they are, avoiding questions about work, not wanting to discuss any of that right now. Phil orders a round of shots, trying to lighten up the mood. Three rum and colas and five ‘way too girly drinks for a thirty five year old man’ later, and Phil is having the time of his life. Dan has retreated back to his little spot in the bar, over looking his very drunk husband trying to stay upright, dancing next to all his friends.

Taking his tiny straw from his Jack Daniels, swirling it around in the ice, making silly, non-descriptive patterns in his drink, contemplating why he even let Phil drag him out of the flat in the first place. He knows that he should be having fun, but for some reason he can’t shake that bad feeling from deep inside him. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s another year older, and he still isn’t as happy as fourteen year old Dan thought he would be at this age. A soft jingling tone sounds around the bar, and Dan looks up. At the door, there's someone that he hasn’t seen in a long time. 

“Peej?” Dan calls out, trying to grab the tall man's attention. The man smiles, walking up to him. 

“Long time, no see.” Dan smiles, standing up to hug the shorter man. Peej proceeds to laugh and sit down, as the two order another round of drinks. 

In between drunken banter and heavy sighs, they start to talk about what is going on in their lives. Dan explains that his job is going well, although sometimes he wishes that things weren’t so hectic, so he could spend more time with Phil at home. They were both nearing that age where it’s time to think about buying a house, and maybe even having kids, but Dan knows that he’s just a bit too scared of that all, right now, anyway. 

“So, how about you?” Dan questions, wanting to change the subject from his dismal existential discussion. Peej began to talk about some short film he was thinking about making, as well as some other film orientated discussion. Peej continues on with his banter, somewhere along the way mentioning that he didn’t have the funds to keep going with his career. His sponsors kept dropping out on him as he couldn’t seem to work fast enough, (but you can’t rush art, right?)

He says that this is causing problems with Sophie, as he has to work overtime, and is never home as much as he could be, or really wants to be. Dan says that he relates with him, as being a lawyer really isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, and when cases turn into all he can think about, he and Phil have some pretty serious fights. 

“I think I’m gonna head home now. Happy birthday, Bud.” Peej sighs, getting up from his place at the bar, leaving is half drank scotch on the table, and a confused Dan, wondering if he should of listened to Peej’s worries more closely. 

All of that is thrown out the window when an absolutely drunken Phil starts to make his way towards Dan.

“Hey!” Phil shouts at Dan, even though their proximity is so close that he has no reason to be shouting. 

“Why aren’t you having fun with us?” Phil slurs, wrapping his arms around Dan, parting the boy's legs to slip his body in between them. You’d think that as a thirty-five year old baker, for christ's sake, would be a little less of a flirt at this age. 

“I’m just a little tired is all, Phil. Don’t worry about me.” Dan sighs, knowing that if he said it any other way, Phil would be up in arms, trying to get Dan to confess the reason behind why he wasn’t dancing. 

“But.. I want you to have fun! That's the whole reason we’re here tonight, right? Its your birthday, after all.” Phil pouts, trying to inch closer to him. Phil was always so truthful when he was drunk, always has been, and probably always will be. 

“I know, I know, but I’m just stressed about work, and I don’t know how well the ba-” Dan couldn’t get through half his sentence before Phil’s hand had found his way to Dan’s crotch.

“Phil! Are you kidding me? Not here for christ’s sake, just fucki-” 

“But we never have fun anymore.” He whispers, and for a second, even over the blatantly loud dubstep, that he actually thought that Phil sounded genuinely sad. He guessed he was right, with Dan having to leave at six every morning and coming home at eleven on the good nights, and the weekends were the busiest for Phil’s bakery, they could never really make anytime for doing anything together, let alone that. Phil came closer to Dan’s neck, kissing and biting at his neck, the music becoming louder. 

Phil suddenly pulls back, his facial expression going becoming sour, and in two seconds, all of those pretty, girly drinks Phil had downed two hours prior, were now on Dan’s shoes. Phil stands up, looking like he was about to cry, apologizing repeatedly, as if Dan was deaf and couldn’t hear him the first fourteen times that he had said it. Dan doesn’t even acknowledge his vomit-covered shoes, and begins to lead Phil out of the vicinity. He would text their friends to let them know that they were going home, he just couldn’t deal with this. 

“Come on Romeo, let’s get you home.” Dan sighs, for what seems like the seventeenth time tonight.

***

Two hours later after hauling a drunk and babbling Phil up the thousands of flights of stairs, Phil has finally passed out on their sofa, head in Dan’s lap, snoring so loud that their neighbours can probably hear him. His shoes aren’t covered in Phil’s vomit anymore, and Dan still feels like an old man.

He can’t help but think back to that beautiful couple he saw in that bar only a few hours ago. They were so bubbly and carefree, so happy to just be in love with each other. He dreams of a time that was simpler, where his head was filled with nothing but visions of the person that he loved. 

2.  
The early streaks of sunshine were streaming in from the still-open window, as Dan was awoken by the muffled buzzing of some Muse song coming from Phil’s pocket. His phone was ringing.

Who in God’s name is calling at this time of the morning?

Dan reaches into Phil’s pocket, the passed-out man, still snoring, head in Dan’s lap. He manages to pull the phone away without disturbing Phil, and looks at the caller ID.

No Caller ID.

How weird? Maybe it was a telemarketer. But why would they call so early in the morning? Its five AM for Christ’s sake. Dan wants to ignore it, he really does. He just wants to crawl up beside Phil on their couch (that’s probably way too small to accommodate two six-foot-two men) and fall asleep in his arms, trying to forget the splitting headache that is pulsing against his brain.  
But for some godforsaken reason, he picks it up. He really wishes that he hadn’t.

The voice on the other sounds frantic, panicked, and something that Dan really didn’t want to have to deal with at this hour. He tells them to calm down, to breathe, so he can hear what they’re bloody saying, and then he realises something. This delirious voice was Louise’s. But why in the world would Louise be calling Phil at five in morning, from a payphone? He tries to piece her rushed words together. Something about Peej, and last night, and -a car crash? She calms down enough, and Dan finally realises that she’s crying. 

“What happened to Peej?” Dan blurted out, finding himself ten times more awake than he was two minutes ago.   
“He died, Phi-l.” Louise choked, obviously still thinking that Phil was the one on the phone. It takes Dan two seconds to comprehend what Louise just said, and the minute he does, something clicks inside of him. Memories of last night's discussion with Peej about not being happy in life. Was it all a coincidence? Could this just be a silly, miraculous mistake? Peej really couldn’t of been that depressed, could he? Or was Dan too wrapped up in his own sorrow that he couldn’t properly detect Peej’s? 

He couldn’t take it anymore, he didn’t want to believe it. Was Dan the last person that Peej had ever spoken to? The thought made Dan sick. He needed some water, anything that would make his mouth not feel like the fucking Sahara desert. He stands up, completely forgetting that Phil was still snoozing soundly on his lap, not affected by the unbelievable scenario. Dropping Phil’s phone somewhere onto the floor on the way to the kitchen. Dan’s breathing becomes shallow, as he takes his now-shaking hands and reaches up towards the cupboard where they keep their glasses. Managing to not break every goddamned cup that they own, he grabs one and turns to the sink.

The freezing cold tiles numb his feet, and they start to feel like the rest of his body does. Dazed. In shock. Confused. He reaches for the tap, and puts his glass under it, letting it rest in the bottom of the sink, his hands too unstable to carry the fragile glass. As he watches the clear water trickle into the glass, something catches his eye. Phil’s newspaper, crumpled and probably a few days old now, flipped open to the horoscope section. Thoughts of yesterday morning fill Dan’s head, as he remembers his and Phil’s conversation.

***

“I’m telling you, Dan, why would they write it if it wasn’t true?” Phil exclaims, too energetic after his two and a half cups of black coffee. Sometimes, for a thirty-five year old man, he was way too gullible. 

“It’s all propaganda, don’t you know? They put it in there because people are always wanting to control their lives. Wanting to find out what their future holds.” He retorts back, still “grumpy”, as Phil describes him when he’s acting like this in the morning. 

“I know, but don’t you think it's fun? Finding out if you’ll meet your prince charming today? Or if you’ll get that big promotion sometime in the near future?” He smiles, pushing his thin-framed glasses up against his nose, so they don’t fall into his coffee, like they’ve done in the past. 

“I guess, but isn’t it just motivation for people to work harder? Like the fucking stars can’t tell if your boss will fire that person who’s job you want.” He grumbled, not bothering to look at the time like he usually does. He couldn’t care less if he was late today. His boss said that he didn’t have to come into work today, since Dan was one of the best Lawyers in all of England (even though he would never admit it) and it was his birthday.

‘Thirty is a big year, after all.’ His boss would say, laughing at Dan’s angry expression. The fact was that Dan was incredibly smart, but his wits and incredible comebacks were the things that really won him cases. Criminal law was scary at times, Dan did have to admit that. Working with criminals and people that have been in jail for thirty plus years could get a bit tough at times, especially if he knew that his client had done the wrong thing. But he was incredible at defending his arguments, and the people that he fought for usually came out clean, anyway. His job really was something that he loved, even though he could get caught up in it all, sometimes. 

Phil didn’t seem to mind though, taking everyday as it comes, not rushing Dan to do anything. He was pretty amazing, actually. Phil’s dream was to be an actor, or maybe a director, or something to do with the film industry, but that dream came crashing down when his Mother passed away in his third year at University, the year that Dan had met him. That woman had meant everything to Phil, she still does. He couldn’t go on studying, and his love for acting eventually had become a painful thing to remember, as it reminded him of her. But the one thing that they shared in common, the one thing that they both loved, was baking. And so after one and a half years of non-stop ‘I don’t think I can keep going, Dan’ and ‘Please, just let me sleep’ He finally dragged Phil out of bed, and the first thing Dan did was buy a cookbook. A baking one, to be exact, and he guessed that it had brought back the happy memories of his Mother.

He decided that he would open a bakery, as he really didn’t have the qualifications to do much else, and it was what he loved to do. The reason that Phil is so kind and patient with Dan, is because Dan treated him like that when his Mother passed. Instead of going out to party like any other stressed out Law student would do, he stayed at home, making food for Phil, changing his bedsheets, coaxing him out of his depression, sticking by him when no one else would. Something that he would be forever grateful to Dan for doing for him.

“Da-Dan, are you even listening to me?” Phil snaps, taking his glasses off and setting them on the table. He knew Phil well enough to know that he only did that when he was really angry.

“Hmm?” Dan looked up from his half-burned toast, nodding as if he’d been listening to Phil’s rambling this whole time. 

“Do you want me to read your horoscope?” He repeats, realising that Dan had in fact not been listening to him talking. He brushes it off, and decides that Dan was probably just stressed.   
“Sure, and why are you reading the paper, anyway?” He murmurs, knowing that it will make Phil happy if he does.

“I’m just embracing becoming an old man.” He giggles, knowing that Dan hates that phrase. He refuses to admit that he’s moving into the second phase of his life. He’s not as young as he used to be, and his urge to go out and party is long dead, and probably left when he met Phil, if he was completely honest. He was never much of a party animal anyway, he’d much rather be cuddled up to Phil on their couch watching reruns of Friends. 

“Just read it out, you spoon.” 

“Okay, okay.”

Dan wasn’t completely listening (again) as Phil had read out the ‘Gemini - May 21st to June 21st’ Horoscope. It was something about ‘keeping his loved ones close’ and ‘not taking what he had for granted.’ Just propaganda. That's all it was. Phil had finished talking, a giant grin on his face as he stared at his Husband, scooting his chair back from his spot at the table, bringing his long legs up, crossing them like a kindergartener. 

“So? What did you think?” He said, grinning.

“Incredibly fascinating, I will definitely keep it in mind today.” Dan smiled, standing up from the table, planting a kiss on Phil’s forehead as he stood up. 

“Hey! Wait a second.” Phil stops him in his tracks, standing up from his place at the dining table, running over to stand in front of Dan.

“I didn’t give you your birthday present!” He exclaims, running into their shared bedroom. 

“I thought we agreed on no presents this year!” Dan yells, still in the dining room. Phil acts like he never remembers saying such a thing, even though he knows that he did. He just likes to spoil him sometimes. He walks into the dining room once again, with his hands behind his back, and a giant smile on his face. 

“Close your eyes and hold your hands out.” He giggles as Dan does what he says, as he brings the present from behind his back, placing the gift in Dan’s hands.

“Open.” He whispers, and Dan’s eyes fly open, looking at the small wrapped gift. The wrapping paper on the gift isn’t exactly tapped down very well, and there are certain corners that probably shouldn’t be where they were placed, but it was what made it so special. Dan tears the paper off, revealing a small velvet box.

“You aren’t proposing to me again, are you?” Dan smiles, happy thoughts of cherry blossoms fill his head, and the memories of Phil getting down on one knee in the middle of Japan bring a smile to his face. That was five years ago now, and it is still one of the best memories that Dan has.

“No, you spork, just open the bloody box.”  
He does as he’s told, and the thing that is inside it gives Dan mixed feelings. It's a keychain. A pearl keychain, actually. Dan can tell that the chain is real silver (because of the jewellers that Phil had bought it from) and at the end of the five centimeter chain was a small, white pearl. 

“It's your birthstone.” Phil whispers.

“I thought that maybe you could put it on your keys for work or something, and when you’re stressed you can look at it and think of me, or something.”

Phil’s hands fumbling over himself, still feeling bashful over someone that he’s been with for over a decade.The mixed feelings that once came with this box had now turned into happy ones, as he smiles and the tiny keychain.

“It's beautiful, Phil. Thank you. really.” Dan chuckled, smiling as he pulled his beaming husband into a hug. 

***

3.  
Dan freezes. His hands go limp, causing him to drop the glass that he was holding, it shattering into a thousand pieces below him. He can’t feel anything, not even the cold tiles that he was standing on. The chilly five AM air isn’t even enough to break this feeling that he was having. He hears footsteps, ‘pad, pad, pad’ down the hall, quicker and quicker they come. 

“Dan? Are you okay?” Phil’s voice is startling, jolting Dan out of the weird, cold void that he was currently floating in. The kitchen door swings open, and Phil gasps. The glass is scattered all over the floor, and Dan was in the middle of it all. 

“C-come over here. Carefully, please.” Phil knew something was wrong, Dan wouldn’t be acting like this if there wasn’t. He wasn’t hungover, Phil was the one that had passed out on their sofa only a few hours ago. This was all too much. He couldn’t even follow a simple instruction from Phil, let alone explain what just happened. Dan could feel his heartbeat in his throat, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Hands shaking and teeth chattering, He tries to start to walk to Phil.

“I have a better idea, just wait.” Phil rushes out of the room, leaving Dan to himself. He wants to sit down, either that or his legs are going to give out. He leans against the counter behind him, wishing Phil would just hurry up, already. His hands grasp the cool surface, head spinning. Peej couldn’t really be dead, could he? And why would Louise call Phil and not someone else? Why was Louise even the one to call Phil? All these questions filled his mind, confusing and scaring Dan to the point of near insanity. Just as Dan’s body is about to give out, Phil runs into the room, a broom in his right hand.

“Here, just let me sweep and you can walk through.” Phil’s adrenaline has kicked in, and Dan internally thanks God for that. Phil’s flight or fight response was something that you could really rely on, compared to Dan who just crawled into a ball in any sort of situation. Phil clears a path and starts to walk between Dan. It takes two seconds for him to fall into Phil’s arms, and the sobbing begins. And this is real sobbing, too. Hiccuping and stuttering, breath catching in your throat. It’s quite horrible, really, and Dan hates it, but it keeps coming. Sob after sob, and Phil just takes it, rubbing soft circles into Dan’s back. Phil realises that Dan isn’t going to stop any time soon, and begins to move his arms to sit under Dan’s legs.

“Peej, P-eej died Phil, he di-ed.” It takes Phil a few seconds to realise what Dan has just said. Did he have a nightmare and thought that it was reality? That had happened a few times to Phil and it's was pretty scary, at times. No. Dan wouldn’t be this upset. It wouldn’t take him this long to realise that it was just a dream.

“Jump.” He whispers, and Dan does as he’s told. Wrapping his long legs around Phil’s hips, his head falling into Phil's chest. Dan’s crying is starting to settle, as Phil starts to walk them out of the kitchen and into the lounge, Phil sitting them on the couch, Dan's legs still around him. The comforting continues as Phil takes his hands and places them on Dan’s cheeks, tilting his head to look Phil in the eyes. 

“Are you okay, now? You don’t have to explain too much, it’s okay.” That’s the best part of Phil, in Dan’s opinion. His tenderness. He always knows when Dan isn’t okay, and he was always there to comfort and to listen to Dan’s silly rambles about the things that he was passionate about. 

“No, no-o, yo-u need to-to hear it. Peej di-ed, Phil.” Worry flashes through Phil’s cerulean eyes, but quickly turns back to pity and sorrow. He hates to see Dan so upset, in fact he doesn’t think that he’s ever seen Dan so distressed before. Phil couldn’t really believe what was happening. How did Dan find this out? Was it true? Or was it some sort of sick prank?

“Louise j-just called. He-e was in a car acci-dent.” Phil audibly gasped, but that only triggered most tears from Dan. Dan was still stumbling over his words, his hiccups still accompanied by the small sobs that he would let out every couple of seconds. Dan reached his hands up to Phil’s face, and before he knew it, Phil was crying, too. 

“H-hey, no. You know what? It’s okay. We can do this, right?” Phil smiles through his tears, trying to make Dan stop sobbing. It was so worrying to see Dan this shaken up, and he needed to get him to compose so he could get at least some information out of him. Dan nods, taking deep breaths. Phil takes him off of his lap, and places him on the sofa next to him, getting up to get some water for the both of them. 

When he returns, Dan has his hands in his lap, and he isn’t crying anymore, he’s just taking deep, long breaths, the tears drying on his cheeks. Phil hands him a plastic cup this time, filled with cold water. Dan takes it willingly, trying to steady his hands so the water doesn’t splash everywhere. Phil takes his place back, sitting next to Dan. They sit in silence for a few minutes, with only the sound of Dan’s clattering teeth and heavy breathing.

“Now, can you explain it a little better now?” Phil is rubbing Dan’s back again, looking into his tired, chocolate eyes. Dan nods, putting the cup down onto the ground.

“Well, I was woken up to your p-phone ringing, and so I picked it up, and it was Louise. She was crying and I couldn’t hear her very well because I think she was calling from a payphone.” Dan continues to explain what happened, his hands fumbling over each other as he tries his hardest to choke the words out, his breath still catching and hitching in some places.

“And she tells me that he was in a car accident last night. I didn’t really hear anything after that, I kind of went into a weird shock. I couldn’t even b-breathe properly. I start to walk into the kitchen to get some water, and I found your newspaper from yesterday.” Oh. Now Phil remembers. The conversation that he and Dan had, about the horoscopes.

“And my horoscope was talking about keeping friends and family close, but I didn’t l-listen to it. I was too wrapped up in my own f-fucking problems that I couldn’t even see that my f-friend needed me. I didn’t even know that he wasn’t okay, P-Phil.” 

‘Dan was blaming himself for Peej’s accident?’

“Dan, no. Don’t put that on yourself. How do you know that it was even a suicide attempt in the first place? Please, don’t do that to yourself. It was pure coincidence that they seem to match up.” How could Dan even for a second think that Peej’s death was his doing? Phil shakes his head internally, taking the younger boy’s hands in his. Dan nods, listening to what Phil is saying. 

“Now, let's get you to bed, yeah? It's half five in the blinking morning. We can sort this all out later” And for the first time that morning, Dan smiles. 

4.  
The scalding water ran down Dan’s back, as he revisits the memories from the horrid morning before. Phil had carried him all the way to their bed (he doesn’t really know how he managed, to be honest) and let him sleep for most of the day. Phil called some people to clear up the misconstrued events that had happened this morning, taking control of the situation. Phil was always good at that. Dan? Not so much. He is the lawyer, after all, but sometimes real life situations got to be too much for him, at times, and that’s when Phil stepped in. 

The hot shower that Phil suggested he should take wasn’t making his sore muscles feel any better. He couldn’t shake that horrible feeling that was still looming, following him around like a lost puppy. After a few minutes of trying to actually enjoy the hot water, instead of standing there like a dead fish, Dan turned off the water, wrapped a towel around his waist, and started to walk to their bedroom. Passing the living room on his way, he could hear Phil talking to someone.

‘Is he still making phone calls?’

“Yes, he’s quite alright now, just a little shaken up. I’m sure he’ll be fine by tomorrow.” He could hear Phil’s muffled voice through the thin walls, explaining something to the person on the other side of the phone.

“I’ll be sure to tell him that. Thank you for checking up with us- yes, yes, goodbye, I love you, too.” Phil disconnected the phone, and Dan could hear his feet pattering against the wood floor heading towards the door. Dan starts to walk away, not wanting to it to seem like he was prying on Phil’s conversation. Phil opens the door, and Dan turns around.

“Oh, my mum just called. She saw Peej on the news and wanted to know if we were alright.” Dan nodded, turning away from him, walking into their bedroom. He couldn’t really face having a conversation with Phil about Peej right now. ‘How could Phil be so calm in all of this?’ Dan wondered if he could ever be as collected and rational as Phil.

‘Maybe one day.’

“He-hey! Dan, are you okay?” Phil yelled, he doesn’t do it often. Only when he really needs to. Dan didn’t realise that he felt so sickly until Phil’s hand was on his back, holding him up.

“Yes, yes, I’m alright. Just tired.”

‘Great excuse, Dan. You’ve slept all day.”

Phil doesn’t argue with him, as he knows that he’s having a hard time. It’s nice that they know how to read each other, without having to say a word. It came in handy in quite a lot of situations, actually. Like if they’re visiting Phil’s family and his Mother has given Dan one-too-many kisses on the cheek, Phil will try and avert the conversation to something else. Or if Dan’s having a hard day at work, Phil somehow knows that he’s stressed and will pop into Dan’s office, bringing him something from the bakery, even though he knows that Dan probably eats way too much sugar for his own good. 

Phil pulls him into a hug, knowing that Dan needs one of those, too. He places a kiss on the taller man’s forehead, brushing the curls out of his eyes. Caramel melts into cerulean, and all is well again. 

“We’ll be okay, you know that, right?” Phil coos, trying to make his husband feel better about this whole situation. It's wasn’t Dan’s fault at all, but Phil could see why he was blaming himself. He just wishes that he wasn’t that goddamn drunk that night to remember what had happened. 

“I’m gonna get dressed”Dan explains, pulling out of the hug, kissing Phil on the cheek. Phil nods and starts to walk to the lounge, giving Dan the space he needs.

***

Later that night, Dan’s head is in Phil’s lap, Phil carding through Dan’s disorderly curls. ‘The Great British Bake Off’ blaring through the room, filling the silence. The calm atmosphere was interrupted by Phil’s phone going off for the thirteenth time that evening.

“Leave it.”Dan mumbled, slowly falling asleep to the sweet ministrations of Phil’s hands. Phil ignores Dan’s request, pulling his hips up to reach into his back pocket. Dan groans, sitting up, only to move his heavy head to Phil’s shoulder. 

Phil accepts the call, and brings the phone to his ear. Dan doesn’t hear most of what he said, just muffled, ‘We’re fine’ or ‘sure, we can do that.’ In a matter of minutes the call is over, and Phil throws his phone onto the other side of the sofa, wrapping his arms around Dan.

“That was Louise. Peej’s funeral is on Sunday.” Phil sighs, resting his head on Dan's, his fingers already fiddling with Dan’s hands. Dan snuggles into Phil's side, wrapping his legs around his torso. 

“What did he say to you? You know, that night.” This was one thing that Phil wasn’t exactly sure if he should be asking. Dan was probably one of the last people that Peej had ever interacted with, and the accident was only last night. Dan snuggles further, and lets out a sigh.

“I don’t even remember it that clearly. All the said was that he was having trouble with his new film, and that he didn’t really know what to do.” Dan was still going with the fact that Peej’s death was a planned suicide, and not the most likely possibility of it just being a freak coincidence. Phil pulled Dan in, trying to get the still-shaken-up man closer to him somehow. Phil reached for the remote, turning the television off. His hands found their way to Dan’s hair, once again. It was a sort of coping mechanism, in a way. Soothing for the both of them. 

“Well, that's enough mystery solving tonight, Sherlock. Let's get some sleep, huh?” Phil giggles trying to lighten the mood, but to his dismay, Dan was already fast asleep on his shoulder. Phil groans, knowing that he’ll have to carry Dan back to their bed for the second time today. (Not that Phil minds, it's quite nice, actually. Dan’s just a little too tall to be able to be carried all the way down their narrow hall.)

Dan always looked so peaceful when he slept. His hair falling in his eyes, cheeks squished against whatever surface he was lying on, pink lips pursed into the cutest pout Phil thinks he’s ever seen. He looks like he’s five again, without a care in the world. Phil likes that a lot. 

 

5\.   
Slamming the door to his office shut, Dan starts to storm towards his desk, throwing his briefcase on the table. Running his hands through his drenched hair, the heavy rain making it's way through his open windows, closing them with a loud ‘slam!’. Of course, the rain decides to strike just as Dan was making his way to work. The week had been hard enough, with his last case absolutely flunking, his client losing for the first time in a while. His mind has been occupied for the past few days, memories of Tuesday morning filling his head. He starts to pace, his thoughts getting the better of him.   
Shaking his head, he pulls off his soaked blazer, hanging it over the back of his desk chair. He sits down, slumping back into the comfort of the dry cushions. Opening his briefcase, he pulls out the almost-soggy paperwork that he was meant to fill out days ago, dropping them in front of him. Pressing the ‘no. 2’ button on the phone on his desk, he asks his secretary to print off some “new and preferably dry” sheets that he could actually write on. She laughs, as her voice rings through the phone, agreeing with his request. 

Staring down at the drenched paperwork, the thinks about calling it a day, even if it was only eight in the morning. His phone starts to vibrate in his back pocket, ripping him away from his thoughts. He reaches around the back of him, pulling the object out and wiping the screen.

Phil Lester; To Dan Howell:  
Everything okay this morning? You seemed a bit on edge… hope you’re okay x.

Dan smiles, laughing at his husband’s amazing timing. 

Dan Howell: To Phil Lester  
I’m fine. Thanks for checking up on me, though. Just a bit tired. 

Typing a quick response, he looks up at the door, hearing a slight knock. 

“Come in.” He says, putting his phone in his back pocket. No one at his job really knew about Phil, despite them being married for the majority of the time that he’s worked here. He didn’t like talking about his private life with other colleagues, he found most of them to be quite obnoxious, actually. A few people have questioned the ring on his left hand, asking:

“Oh, I didn’t know you were married, Howell?”

To which Dan responds with a chuckle and a slight nod, as they say something along the lines of;

“Well, she must be a very lucky girl.” 

That was the best part of it all, really. The accusations that people made. He’d never spoken a word about his sexuality, and so people just assumed that he was straight. Giggling at the comments most of the time, he tries to hide his smile of contentment. Phil had come into work from time to time, usually to drop something off for Dan’s lunch from the bakery, or to bring Dan his forgotten briefcase. No one usually suspected anything, except for maybe his secretary, who he thinks might have caught him kissing Phil goodbye a few times. She’s never really said anything about it to him, only giving him a little wink, bringing two fingers to her mouth, mimicking a zipping action on her lips. 

She opens the door, smiling at Dan, asking him if he wanted a towel to dry off with. He shakes his head, smiling as she hands him the paperwork. He was always kind to her, unlike some of his other colleagues, who either shunned their secretaries away, abusing the privilege of being assigned one, or had some sort of secret affair going on with them, which usually never lasted. 

“Oh, and Mr. Howell? You have a new client appointment at eight thirty.” She addresses him, smiling sweetly, and starts to walk out the door. He thanks her, feeling a slight buzzing from his phone again. Picking it up from his desk, Phil’s name flashing on the screen again.

Phil Lester; To Dan Howell:  
What time will you be home tonight? 

Dan Howell; To Phil Lester:  
Not quite sure, yet. Hopefully before seven x.

He sighs, putting his phone back down, looking at the time. ‘08:23’ it says, and Dan’s sighs turn into grumbles. His client was going to be here any moment, and his office looked like a mess. He walks to the closet that is installed into the wall of his office, pulling out one of the dress shirts that he keeps in his office for emergencies like these, and takes off his saturated one. Buttoning up the new shirt, he starts to find a nice tie that would go with the matte black of the shirt. Pulling out a deep maroon tie that Phil had bought him for Christmas a few years ago, wrapping it around the collar of his shirt, tying in under five seconds, his decades of practice coming in handy. 

Another knock at the door sounds, as Dan closes the door of the wardrobe, walking back to sit at his desk, calling the people on the other side of the door to come in. His secretary enters the room, followed by a man in a suit that is three sizes too big for him. She hands him the case details in a vanilla folder, and exits the room.

Dan opens the folder, scanning through the documents of the case, gesturing for the man to sit down. It was a car crash case, typical. Should just be wreckage damage, easily fixed, easily done. Dan’s client was eyeing him up and down, sweating like a pig in the suit that he clearly only rented for this meeting. 

‘He’s a kid, Dan, go easy on him.’

Client name: Simon Johnson

“So, Mr. Johnson. I see that you’ve gotten yourself into a little trouble?” Dan chuckles, trying to lighten the mood a bit, as the kid sitting in front of him looked like he was about to pass out. 

“A-yes Sir.” He replies, fiddling with his hands in his lap. The kid looked like a university student, not to brag, but Dan was one of the best lawyers in London, why did he get stuck with this case, and how could this kid afford it? Dan starts to actually read the documents, getting deeper into the case. 

‘Surely this kid couldn’t have done too much damage.’

He starts to read through the damage costs and regulations, when something stops Dan right in his tracks. His eyes bolt straight up, looking the kid in the eyes, and back down to the documents in his hands that were now shaking. This kid had been the person that hit Peej that night. This absolute idiot had killed one of his best friends. Everything goes weak, his hands dropping the folder, and reaching for his phone, sticking it in his pocket.

“Uh-Sir, I’m very sorry you’ll have-have to excuse me for a moment.”

Dan utters, and just like that, he was out of his office, and sprinting down the halls of his building. He can hear his secretary calling his name, asking him “Sir, where are you going?” Dan’s blocking it all out. He had to leave. He can’t work with that kid, that reckless asshole that had killed his friend.

‘God, I bet that kid was drunk.’

Dan thinks to himself, rushing down the stairs, people coming out of their offices, wondering what all the noise was for. He pushes the doors of his building open, running to his car, the still-heavy rain pounding down his face, blinding him. Pulling his keys out of his pocket to unlock his car, he comes across something that just makes him sadder. Phil’s keychain. 

Dan turns around, leaning on his car, sliding down to sit on the asphalt. He thought he was stronger. He could have managed all the way until Peej’s funeral, keeping his emotions under wraps. But, alas, here he was, sitting in the pouring rain, tears that he didn’t even know he was shedding, rolling down his cheeks, his keys in hand, staring at Phil’s keychain. 

 

6.  
The rain only got harder as Dan sat, keychain in hand, his tears mixing with the rain. ‘This is pathetic. Thirty and you’re acting like you’re some scared sixteen year old girl?’ Dan scolds himself, wishing he could calm down, trying to stop his hiccuping. After minutes of contemplating if he should actually go back inside and explain that ‘this was all a simple misunderstanding’ and actually get on with his job, instead of freaking out over a mild interaction with someone that might not even be guilty of committing such a crime, his phone goes off, blaring some sort of typical apple ringtone. 

Sighing, wiping his cheeks with the back of his palm, he stands up and unlocks his car. Not caring that he’s been literally sitting in the rain for the past five minutes, he takes a seat, pulling out his phone. Phil’s name is displayed on the screen for the third time today, and Dan’s not sure if he has the courage to answer it. He hates having to put Phil through anything, especially making him think that he really wasn’t ready to go back to work after what happened. 

He tells himself to breath, running his hands through his hair, once again. Pressing the green phone icon on his phone, he brings the phone up to his ear. 

“Hey! Is everything okay? I got a really worried phone call from your secretary, she said that you ran out of your office, or something?”

‘How did she have Phil’s phone number?’ 

Dan wonders, but remembers that Phil is really one of the only ‘family’ members that he has in London, and he was probably the first person on his emergency call list. He silently thanks her for calling him, as Dan now has some excuse to talk to him.

“Oh- uh yeah, yeah, it was nothing I just really ne-” Dan’s cut off my Phil’s sighing over the other side of the phone. A little huff comes from Phil.

“Stop that.”

“St-stop what, Phil?”Dan tries his best to conceal his tone of voice, that has started to quiver again. Phil starts to go on about ‘Knowing Dan better than anyone else’ and ‘Of course he know’s when something is wrong’ He can’t take it. He really thought he could handle going back to work. The tears stream down his face, for what seems like the eight-billionth time this week, and his voice blows his cover.   
Hiccuping and gasping through the phone, apologizing profusely to him, begging for Phil to come meet him at work, as he doesn’t think that he can drive in the rain. He simply agrees, telling Dan to breathe, and to ‘stop apologizing for everything’.

“Oh, and c-can you bring a towel?” Phil complies, not asking for an excuse.

***

Twenty minutes later, and Phil is knocking on Dan’s window, an umbrella in his hand. Dan unlocks the doors, Phil climbing in on the other side. By now, Dan had stopped crying, and had composed himself enough to turn on some music, trying to think of other things. Phil smiles at him when he takes his coat off. Dan had turned the heat up all the way, trying to warm himself up.

He had remembered last time that he and Phil had gone camping, they had left some spare clothes in the back of their car, Dan thanking God that he actually had something dry to change into. It was only a grey t-shirt and some old sweats, but anything was better than his sopping wet work clothes. 

Phil pulls out a towel from his backpack, handing it to Dan to dry off his hair. He starts to explain his crazy journey on the tube trying to get here, something involving a crazy lady and her two dogs. Phil was always going on about some strange encounter that he had, and it kind of reminds Dan of happier times. As Phil rambles on, Dan starts to forget what happened only a mere half an hour ago. 

Twenty minutes later, and Dan is hunched over from laughing so hard. Phil’s hand is covering his mouth, trying to hide the fact that he’s giggling at Dan’s towel-dried hair. He called it ‘cliche’ and Dan doesn’t think that he’s ever laughed so hard in his life. One silly comment from Phil is all it took to have him on the floor. 

“You feeling a bit better, do you want to go home?”Phil questions, reaching out for Dan’s hand, taking it in his, trying to warm him up. Dan explains that ‘he doesn’t think he can face going back to work today’. Phil completely understands, swapping seats with Dan so he could drive. Phil says that he’ll make a call to Dan’s secretary to cancel any meetings or appointments that he has for the rest of the week. Dan need to rest at home, spend some time recovering. 

 

“I’ll close the bakery for the rest of the week, too. I’m sure people won’t mind, it’s Wednesday, anyway.” Dan nods, letting Phil ramble, too tired to hold conversation anymore. He leans his head against the back of the car seat, the soft sound of the radio and Phil’s voice in the background. He starts to drift to sleep, his neck cramping as the car turns a corner. Phil reaches out his hand, placing it on Dan’s thigh, rubbing circles. Dan places his hand on Phil’s, lacing their fingers together, wondering ‘What the hell he’d do if he didn’t have him.’

7.  
The rest of Dan’s days leading up to the funeral are eerie. Silence fills their apartment, with most of the two’s interactions being sleeping, or holding each other on the sofa, watching countless nature documentaries. It’s Saturday night, and Dan’s on edge. With Peej’s funeral being tomorrow, Dan’s nerves have never been so bad. Seriously thinking of pulling out, saying to Phil “Let’s just not go, huh?”. He couldn’t do that to him. Or Peej. Or all of his friends that needed him to be there for them. 

People that were close to him have died before, so why was it so bad this time? Dan was never the type of person to milk tragedy, especially if it affected the people around him. It was 10pm, and Phil was in the kitchen, getting around to cooking dinner. He’d been the one doing most of the work around the house the past three days, with Dan being in the state that he was. 

“Hey, Dan? Could you come set the table?” Phil called from the other room, Dan sighing as he got up from the sofa, heading into the kitchen. Phil’s standing in front of the stove, stirring some type of mysterious stir-fry dish, wearing the Hello Kitty apron that Dan had bought as a joke when they had gone to Japan a few years back. He’s humming the Mission Impossible tune, his hips swaying to the beat. Dan smiles, happy that Phil can be so carefree. 

Grabbing the cutlery from the drawers, along with the salt and pepper that Phil had thrown at him, he starts to tread back to the lounge. Their cutlery set had been a wedding gift from Phil’s Father, Dan remembering his kind words of wisdom. Seconds later, Phil arrives with two bowls full of his strange creation. They both sit down, Phil putting the bowl in front of Dan.

 

“And, what do we call this?” Phil starts to smile, his eyes lighting up at his husband's snarky comment. Phil makes up some extravagant, made up name for the dish, throwing his hands in the air, remembering that there was a bottle of wine in the fridge. Dan laughs as Phil gets up out of his seat, walking back to the kitchen. He hasn’t really had an appetite this whole week, but he tries to eat so Phil doesn’t start to worry. 

Phil enters the room once again, this time with two glasses in his hand, and a bottle of cheap Tesco’s wine that he had bought a few days ago. He pours Dan a glass, sitting back down. 

“Better?” Phil says softly, reaching out for Dan’s hand. He nods, grabbing Phil's hand. He doesn’t want to talk, so he lets Phil lead, rambling about something that he saw on Tumblr that day. Dan wished that he could get out of this terrible funk that he had been in all week, the dark rain cloud still looming over his head. Drowning Phil out, Dan lets his thoughts get the best of him. Thoughts that he had been pushing down since the accident start running through his head, and before he knows it, tears are streaming down his cheeks, landing on the wooden table. 

“And th-Dan? Hey, are you alright?” Phil speaks up, snapping Dan out of his little meltdown. He didn’t want to cry again. He’d been crying this whole week. He had just turned thirty, for Christ's sake, why did this have to happen now? Shaking his head, Dan mumbles something about ‘not being okay at all, really’. Bringing his hands up to his cheeks, he presses the heel of his palms under his eyes, trying to stop the tears from wetting his t-shirt. 

Phil’s talking to him, or at least is trying to, but Dan can’t hear a thing. His breathing takes a turn for the worst, speeding up, making his chest heave. Little hiccups start erupting from his throat, and that's when he knows that he’s gone. He wraps his arms around himself, a little habit that he had developed when he was younger. Phil starts to clear away the food, moving it to the other side of the table. 

Dan looks up, considering if he should explain to Phil what he’s feeling. Opening his mouth, he tries to choke out a syllable or two, but his vocal cords disagree. His sorrow starts to turn into impatience, anger surging through his veins. He doesn’t even know why he’s angry, really. Grief had never been something that Dan had to deal with. Heavy breathing and hot tears, Dan’s hand reaches for the wine glass next to him. 

He grasps it, only to throw it against the adjacent wall, smashing into a million pieces. Phil gasps, his hands coming up to cover his mouth. Tears still pouring from his eyes, Dan turns to Phil, noticing the tears that are starting to well up in Phil’s eyes, too. Dan drops the remainder of the glass that he was holding, realizing what he has just done. They had fought before, but never to the point of either one breaking something. 

Phil stands up, walking around the other side of the table to get to Dan, avoiding the glass. In two seconds, Phil's arms are around Dan's waist, his head resting the crevice of his neck. Dan hugs back, the two men holding each other as tightly as they could. Phil starts to quietly cry, rubbing Dan’s back. This had been the first time that Phil had cried this whole week, or at least the first time that he had cried about it in front of Dan. Dan apologizes, once, twice, three times, trying to make sure that Phil understands how sorry he was. Phil simply nods into Dan’s neck, his hands coming up to comb through Dan’s hair. 

It’s 10:17 PM, and for the second time this week, Dan is in Phil's arms. crying in a sea of glass.

8.  
Sunday morning, the sun streaming through the open window leading to their lounge. Dan’s head is resting on Phil’s shoulder, snoring lightly. The two men passed out on the sofa after the many tears of last night, their limbs intertwined. Phil starts to wake, his neck stiff from sleeping in the uncomfortable position for many hours. 

Nudging Dan to wake up, he starts to stretch his arms, his shirt riding up slightly. Moments later, Dan is yawning, murmuring a quick and sleepy, ‘Good Morning’, before bringing his hands up to rub his eyes. A conversation about breakfast is had, and Phil pushes himself up from the couch, turning to see the remnants from last night. The broken glass shines in the morning light. Phil thinks that it would probably look quite pretty and artsy if it didn’t have it's worrying connotations behind it.

Dan is already pushing past him, making his way to the kitchen, saying something about finding a broom. Phil shakes his head, knowing that Dan probably feels a bit guilty about his little breakdown last night. 

The morning drags on, their breakfast silent, except for the clattering of silverware against cereal bowls, and the soft background noise of the television. Dan starts to walk to their bedroom to change for the day's events, kissing Phil on the forehead as he’s walking. Neither of the men needed to voice their love for each other anymore, knowing looks and little ministrations were their communication these days. 

Phil had picked Dan’s outfit a few days back, the black patterned shirt hanging in their closet. It wasn’t that Dan wasn’t capable of choosing his own clothes, it was the opposite of that, actually. Dan just couldn’t bring himself to think of today at all, really. 

Dan was ready in less than twenty minutes, heading down to wait in the car for Phil. He knew the drive to the church wasn’t going to be very easy. Moments later, Phil is in the seat next to him, rubbing the back of his neck, his brows furrowed. 

“Are you okay?” Dan asks quietly, his hands in his lap. Phil nods absentmindedly, saying that he’s ‘misplaced’ his keys. For years, the couple have had little heated conversations about losing things, as they both tend to be quite forgetful, especially Phil. They both agreed to say that they’ve ‘misplaced’ something, although the sneaky eyerolls and snarky comments are still there. Dan reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his keys to hand them to Phil. He nods a curt ‘thank you’ to Dan whilst putting the key in the ignition. 

Dan’s predictions were correct. The two hour drive to Brighton felt like an eternity, with heavy sighs and muffled songs playing on the radio. Phil running his hands through his hair every ten minutes, and Dan with his head pressed against the window. He looks down, a gleaming object catching his eye. His key-chain. It was rattling against Phil’s knee and the dashboard, the midday sunlight reflecting off it. Dan didn’t really treasure materialistic things, besides his engagement ring and maybe his birth certificate. But he thinks that the key-chain might just make it onto his list. 

Dan hears a loud exhale, and moments later Phil’s hand is on Dan’s thigh, rubbing small circles into it with the bottom of his thumb. Dan smiles, the tiny gesture making him feel better. He turns to Phil, whose eyes are focused on the road ahead of him, and utters a little ‘I love you’ before resting his head against the car seat, drifting into an unsettling sleep. 

***

Dan wakes up to Phil patting his thigh, jolting him out of his uncomfortable sleep. He sighs as he meets Phil’s eyes, the two sharing a knowing look. Dan did feel a bit better, knowing that Phil was here with him, he doesn’t really think that he could do it alone. They both get out of the car, Dan grabbing his and Phil’s jacket out of the back seat, the cold sea air biting. The church that the funeral was being held at was right on the Brighton pier, just near where Peej used to live. 

The two men walk into the church hand in hand, passing the mass of cars in the parking lot. They’re greeted by Peej’s parents and his sister at the door, standing, waiting to invite guests in, all clutching tissues and holding tears in. Phil is the one to speak, thanking them and wishing them all well. Dropping Dan’s hand to take Peej’s Father's, shaking the man’s hand with sincerity. Dan nods thoughtfully to them, Phil taking his hand again. Walking down the aisle to find Louise, who is sitting in one of the middle rows by herself. Phil takes a seat next to her and starts talking quietly. Dan sits back, still clutching Phil’s hand, taking deep breaths. 

The ceremony starts, and Peej’s family takes a seat in the front row. After the priest is done speaking, one by one people start to walk up and talk about all the things that they loved about him. Phil starts to cry when it’s Peej’s Mother’s turn. He’s still his Mother’s son at heart. Memories of Phil’s Mother’s funeral flood Dan’s mind, and then it hits him. 

He feels the salty, warm tears trickle down his cheeks, and his palms get itchy. He never really did like crying, but he doesn’t do anything to stop it this time. Emotion washing over him as he listens to a Mother talking about her lost son, and he lets his head falls against Phil’s shoulder. The tears end up falling off his cheeks and onto Phil’s shirt, but the two don’t mind. Phil leans down and kisses Dan on the forehead, their tears mixing, not knowing whose are whose. 

The ceremony is coming to a close just when Peej’s mother stands up once again, and walks up to the alter. She invites all the guests to take a short walk down the pier to scatter Peej’s ashes in the sea, explaining that he would want all of his friends there for the moment. They all stand up silently and start to exit the church, walking down to the pier, the family leading. Dan and Phil walking hand in hand as they have done the whole day. 

When they all reach the pier, the family take a moment to say goodbye one last time. Phil leans down to whisper in Dan’s ear, little words of happiness and encouragement as the two stand on the pier, surrounded by their friends. Ending it with a kiss on the cheek, tears and all. Peej’s Mother starts to scatter his ashes in the water, the sunset reflecting off the beautiful water. 

As everyone starts to walk back to their cars to start travelling to the wake, Phil mentions that they stay and watch the sunset. Dan agrees, wrapping his arms around Phil's waist. The two sigh, mentally exhausted from the previous week. There's a faint sound of music playing in the background, coming from a restaurant just behind the pier. Dan recognises the song immediately, his eyes shooting up to meet Phil's. 

“La Vie En Rose?” They both say, laughing at their syncrenicity. This was one of the songs that they danced to at their wedding. Dan had always thought that it was a bit cheesy. with the saxophone and all, but Phil thought that it was romantic, and that's all that really mattered. He had even memorised the lyrics, joking that his two years of French lessons had really paid off.Phil pulls away from the embrace, his body turning to face Dan. He starts to bow like a prince, outstretching his arms and taking Dan’s hand. 

“Will you do me the honour of sharing this dance with me, Princess?” Dan snarks, throwing his head back in laughter, baffled that Phil, one, called him, “Princess” and two, had asked him to dance in the middle of a public place, on a pier of all places. Dan nods, letting Phil have his fun. Phil stands upright once more, placing his hands on Dan’s waist, pulling him close. Dan jokes about Phil always being the one that leads, but Phil doesn’t reply. Dan rests his head the the crook of Phil neck, the two swaying back and forth together, not having a care in the world. 

Dan was sure that people were staring at the two very strange men dancing on the pier, but he didn’t mind. He was with Phil, and he was always the best when they were together. Phil starts to recite the lyrics into Dan’s ear, and he was sure that most of the pronunciations were incorrect, but that just made the moment one hundred times more endearing. 

Dan happily sighs, his embrace becoming tighter around Phil’s waist. He looks up to see that the sun had fully set, and tiny stars were appearing like shining lights in the sky. It was like the weight of this whole week was taken off of Dan’s shoulders in one breath. Dan was in the place that he was meant to be in. He finally felt alive again. The song ends, but the two keep dancing, not needing music. Dan finally pulls back, his arms still around his husband's waist. 

“You know, maybe your horoscope thing was right?” Phil makes a confused noise, his head tilting to the side. Dand starts to explain that he can see the positives rather than the negatives of the situation, throwing in a cheesy metaphor here and there. Explaining that maybe they should ‘just slow down a little, not take things for granted.’ Phil nods, listening intently. 

The two turn, Phil wrapping an arm around Dan’s shoulder. They both look up at the now star-filled sky, tears starting to stream down Dan’s face for what felt like the eighteenth time that day, as Phil leans down to say;

“You know what? I think we’re gonna be okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much !! I hope you enjoyed it , and didn't cry as much as i did lol


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